A Pirate's Love of Post Its
by CuteMcBeauty
Summary: Killian discovers post it notes, as well as the advantageousness of the sticky little paper strips in courtship and wooing. CS fluff. Prompted! Oneshot; No part 2!


It surprised her at first.

After that, it became a pivotal part of the many, many things she loved about the dorky Captain of the Jolly Roger.

It was just too cute.

Ever since arriving in Storybrooke, Killian had slowly been introduced to modern things: Mobiles, lap top computers, tablets, DVD, Blu-Ray, flat screen LCD televisions (but a handful of those, most were still tose lousy boxy thngs that were equally astounding), space heaters, electricity, VCR's, cam-corders, CD's…

And while still at a loss regarding most of those, there was one thing he was absolutely delighted with:

**POST-ITS.**

"Utter brilliance of this realm!" He called them. "Avoid the need to acquire parchment or cowhide, which are, if I do say so myself, bloody pricey and always wasted when all you want to do is write a little note and not chart the map of a sodding continent. Not to mention there is no need to nail it to the walls or doors because of this… glutinous adhesive it embodies. Genius, Swan! Absolutely illustrious!"

He was so silly, it was actually adorable.

Killian loved writing, much like he loved looking into the mirror, as a matter of fact. He knew his assets; he was darn good with a quill and ink fountain (and a ball pen) and could make the most ridiculously tiny little note look like the original American Constitution even if he was writing a dirty poem. His penmanship was exquisite, clean and simply beautiful to look at, the sort that would take an art college student months to nail in a lettering class. So, when the Snow Queen was defeated, it was easy for Emma to decipher the source of the first little yellow note she found on the desk at the Sheriff's station:

"_Good morning to you, darling Swan. Care for coffee? Might I interest you with a muffin with butter, jam and a prolonged and delightful osculation? Granny's at nine, my dear, be timely. _

_Yours, Killian."_

Emma had to google osculation to learn it wasn't a dirty word.

"Osculation… dammit… Of course it's you Killian, nobody else in this or any other planet talks like that…" She grinned, and threw the little note into her purse before wrapping herself with her scarf and heading for her impromptu date with the dashing pirate.

His "osculations" were usually worth it, actually.

The second time she found a note from him, she was arriving home (she'd actually taken heed and paid the deposit for that condo with a sea view that Henry had suggested) from the supermarket. Like before, all it took was one look at the exquisite script to know who the author was.

"_Stopped by merely to say you are the most resplendent, extraordinary, astonishing lass to grace the confines of this and every other realm, Emma Swan. Alas, you were not in the premises; thus, I made do with kissing the inlet handle, knowing you'd touch it on arrival. Please call my talking phone. Always, Killian."_

"God… Do I have the goofiest boyfriend or what!", She laughed; the mere notion of a lovesick Captain Hook kissing the door handle was just plain hilarious; not to mention he stubbornly refused to let go of the "talking" tag to the word "phone", because why would you NOT call it a "talking phone"? She dropped that one into her purse as well.

The third time, was after a fight.

Their first real fight as a couple, as a matter of fact.

They had blown out and simply walked away from each other, pacing angrily in opposite directions. She later tried to call him, but he did not respond. When he tried to call her back, she also didn't take the call.

She curled up under a blanket and a cup of tea, watched Moulin Rouge and cried like a baby; he paced incessantly form one side of his room to the other, hating himself for having fought with his love.

The next morning, as she reached for her car keys to go to work, she looked out the window and had to do a double take. "What… the… hell!?"

After grabbing her jacket and running downstairs and out, she found her bug covered in posts-it notes. Given the care he invested in his writing, she figured he'd probably been up all night, carefully inking each little note down and then walking down the road in the cold Maine night to post each and every note on the car: _"Forgive me", "I'm an horse's arse", "You are my sun, moon and stars", "I'm a fool", "Sorry, my love", "Call me, I beg of you", "Apologies, darling", "Not at peace", "Don't break up with me", "I am so sorry, Swan", "I'm an idiot", "You were right", "Come back to me", "You're my world", "So sad right now", "Love you, Emma", "Most beautiful woman on earth", "I'm lost without you", "I apologize, sweetheart", "My one true love", "My everything", "Swan, I adore you", "I was so wrong", "I'm trying", "My behavior was unacceptable", "I hate myself for having hurt you", "My heart is yours", "How could I say those things?", "Thank the universe for you", "Please talk to me", "Emma & Killian", "My misdoing is inexcusable", "I was mistaken", "Still madly in love with you", "I was so wrong", "Bad pirate", "Hope it's not too late", "My love, my life, my Emma", "Can't live without you", "Please don't leave me", "Sunshine of my life", "Light in my darkness", "Don't deserve you", "Sorry, remorseful, penitent, grieved"…. _

There were at least three dozen more.

But Emma was unable to read them all. Not because she was already late for work, or because it took her at least twenty-five minutes to clear the bug from so many notes… and not even because she was trying to keep them all stuffed in her bag.

She was unable to read them all because she was already running to his room in the diner, teary eyed and smiling. She had a post-it pad of her own, and while she didn't really have the amazing script handwriting he possessed, she knew he'd appreciate the note she was writing at the diner. She then ran up to his room (he was probably still sleeping after his little apologetic-romantic all-nighter). She glued her note to his door and knocked until she heard him stir inside the room. She then ran off back home smiling…

"_My place in twenty minutes; take it or leave it, pirate."_

Twenty minutes later (sharp! Damn, he was so punctual it could be annoying), he was at her door. He looked every bit as tired as she had imagined, added the value of red-rimmed eyes (who knew the dread captain Hook could cry!), and emma was not looking much better as they simply fell into each other's embrace, and sorry's, love you's and love you too's were uttered.

Then they made love.

First time, as a matter of fact.

And then they watched a movie (Emma called in sick, and her dad actually even sent her some hot soup which she and Killian shared mischievously).

And then they made love again.

And again.

And again.

They spent the night together (not making love; they'd actually done it so much during the day, that at night, after a hot shower, the little couple simply zonked off), just holding each other, learning their little night habits for the first time: she snored and hogged the blankets; he talked in his sleep and kicked around.

But they slept, nevertheless; as a matter of fact, they both slept better than they had in years.

When she rose the next morning, he was not there.

There was a post it on his pillow.

She grinned.

"_Breakfast ready, my love: Poached eggs, strawberry yoghurt and coffee. See you in the kitchen. Don't make me wake you, Swan. Love you."_

Drat. He even made his breakfast description on a puny little note look like a menu for Le Cirque.

Yeah. Her boyfriend was pretty unique that way.

In many, many ways actually.


End file.
